


Why Am I Lost as a Lamb?

by ObjectionKuma



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Dorks in Love, F/F, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Friendship/Love, Journalism, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Post-Season/Series 01, Psychological Trauma, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-02 15:43:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObjectionKuma/pseuds/ObjectionKuma
Summary: Dick Hobbs starts a passionate romance with Homer Jackson after a night of drinking in the dead room. The case of Thomas Gower came about the next day and with that Hobbs realized that he fancied Fred Best a bit for his sauciness and charm. The night that the case is solved and onto the next morning Jackson promises to take Hobbs on a trip to New Orleans that never materializes but a plan to go to France is booked before tragedy stroke when Homer Jackson's past nearly kills his Hobbs and mutilates the reporter Fred Best. Hobbs works for Best and they both start a relationship built on friendship and attraction.Mimi Morton meets Susan when Rose begins to work in her theater and they strike up a friendship that turns into more. The four of them conspire to leave London in an effort to start anew.





	1. Steal me with a Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> My other fanfictions will be put on hold for this one.

Constable Dick Hobbs waited for Capitan Homer Jackson in the dead room. He sat on one of the cold metal tables. The room had been cleaned of the lifeless bodies at the moment. Everyone had left for the night beside himself and Jackson. The Captain went to get something at this late hour. (Probably from the brothel, he called home.) Hobbs took off his uniform jacket and hat and unbuttoned a couple buttons from his shirt. He daydreamed of the American sweeping him off his feet like those romance novels his mum read. Except, Homer Jackson was no gallant, chivalrous knight because the crazy American stereotype fit him more.

The case that followed up after the failed Jack the Ripper one, haunted him. The killer took a moving picture of himself killing the victims. Like smut photos but he made it ghastlier by strangling them, while he got off on it. It had been a couple of days since it happened but it still haunted him.

Jackson came in with a fur blanket and some good wine. “Mr. Best of the Star gave me this after we caught him messing with that crime scene. I thought the blanket would be more comfortable than the metal,” He said. Hobbs got off the table and helped him put the blanket on the metal table. They sat on it and opened the wine.

“Did you see worse as an army medic than here in White Chapel?” Hobbs asked.

“A bit but none of it was as heartless and wantonly cruel this place is. You should get out while you still can, before it swallows you whole like a whore does to a prick. Working in the West End would be better for you,” Jackson said. He took a drink from the wine bottle. “You are too good for this place.”

Hobbs took a drink from the same bottle. “I like working with you in this little autopsy room. You bring hope to this wretched place,” Hobbs said. He took a big gulp of wine. He hoped that Jackson wasn’t paying attention to what he said.

“You do and I bring hope? Not even Reid ever said that, maybe because he is too busy bitching about my ways,” Jackson said. “I never knew that ‘American’ could be used as an effective insult.”

“Inspector Reid is very rigid but he does think your skills are very incredible,” Hobbs said. “But to me your Americanness is endearing.’ Hobbs smiled nervously. The constable looked at the Captain with doe eyes. They lay on one of the autopsy table. As the alcohol flowed, Hobbs managed to fall on top of Homer Jackson.

He blushed as Jackson pulled his face up to meet his. “How would you like it if we fucked on in this dead room before Reid and everyone else get here?” Jackson asked as he moved hair out of Hobbs face.

“I thought you weren’t into guys,” Hobbs said.

“Nope. I ended up shacking up with Mr. Best after an unfortunate game of strip poker. Also, I was in the military and a Pinkerton so I ended up in sleeping with a few of my comrades,” Jackson said. He spilled a drop of red wine on Hobbs shirt with a smirk. “So, would you like to make merry with me or should I go get drunk off my ass at some pub?” He asked.

“Make merry with you, I need to get those images from the recent case out of my head anyway,” Hobbs said.

“To make this less awkward please just call me Homer. Screaming ‘Jackson’ would remind me too much of Reid’s angry. Something, we can all agree on that is not a pleasurable experience,” Jackson said.

“Then call my first name too,” Hobbs said.

“Alright Dick,” Jackson said. A smirk across his lips. Homer went in for a kiss as Hobbs wrapped his arms around him. The open bottle of red wine fell on both of them, coating them in a watery red. That caused Jackson to break the kiss when he felt some on his hair. Hobbs’ white shirt was a pinkish red and soaking wet. Laughter filled the room.

“Maybe we should take our clothes off before they get sticky,” Hobbs said. The furs were sparred by virtue of them lying on the floor. Homer got his clothes off first before helping Hobbs. The suspenders fought to stay on the constable’s shoulders. Homer ripped them off as Hobbs pealed his shirt off. After the soaked clothes came off, they used some water from the sink to wash off any stickiness. Hobbs shivered as they wrapped themselves in the furs.

Now that they were comfortable, they went back to eagerly kissing. Hobbs tasted cigarettes and alcohol in Jackson’s mouth. Homer tasted the wine with a hint of fruit. Tongues entered their mouths to get more of the taste. Just kissing naked would have made Hobbs’ happy but then Jackson began to touch him.

“Now there will be no penetration tonight because that can be dangerous for beginners but we can touch, kiss, suck, with the occasional dry humping,” Jackson said as he rubbed Hobbs’ nipples. He sucked on one. Jackson left hickies on his jaw and neck. Hobbs moaned quietly into the furs. Homer moved down, kissing Hobbs along the way. He kissed Hobbs belly button then trailed downwards. The man under him squirmed and whined. He teased his lover until he gave him what he wanted.

Jackson wrapped his lips around Hobbs’ dick. He used his tongue to lick the underside. “Homer, that is the spot!” Hobbs said as he moaned. Hobbs put his hand on Jackson’s dick and stroked it. They climaxed then washed off with the wet cloth used to clean the wine off themselves. They fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms afterward.

The harsh sunlight and Reid’s voice awoke him, “Jackson, I applaud you for not waking up in a gutter but naked with one of my constables in the dead room is right up there with waking up in a gully. Do not get me started on the wine mess because this is the last thing I need. The murder of a toy maker is currently more important.” Reid threw some clean clothes on the furs. “Get dressed, we have work to do.”  Reid and his Sergeant left the room to give them some privacy.

Jackson got on top of Hobbs to kiss him one last time before getting dressed. Hobbs smiled and kissed him back. “Can I spend more time with you like this?” Hobbs asked. They both got dressed quickly.

“Of course, maybe we should go for a drink together after work then to my humble abode,” Jackson said.

“I’ll wear my best suit,” Hobbs replied. A wide grin across his face. They went out of the dead room like nothing had happened. Hobbs held in his giddiness about Jackson as he begun work. The one thing he found amusing was that Reid and Drake did not seem to think that Homer and he did anything sexual. Maybe they did not care about what he and Homer did in their bedroom anyway or more appropriately the dead room.

He went on his patrol while Inspector Reid went to court. At Dog’s Neck, he had found Fred Best after he must have finished court. He smirked as Hobbs saw him come into view. “Do you have any leads for me or will you just continue on patrol with those bruise lips of yours or those hickies on your jawline? I saw Jackson with lips that probably looked like he sucked some cock,” Best said. The words vulgar but he appeared suave as ever.

“Reid believes the boy guilty and other than that there is no other relevant information,” Hobbs said. “We went to Susan’s and where do you get that observation?” Best chuckled.

“I am the chief reporter at the Star and I happen upon diverse sex acts in my pursuit for truth,” Best said. He went back to interviewing people about the dead toymaker and his wife’s relationship. If Hobbs had to choose another man to fancy, it would be Fred Best. A messenger ran towards Hobbs to tell him that Reid needed him. He ran back to Leman Street.  

They met in the dead room where Jackson pointed out that their victim Mr. Manby the Toymaker had his tongue cut out. “Cutting out the tongue is a way to silence the victim even after death,” Jackson explained. “This is usually a work of a gang. This could have been assassination because of the tongue removed or the Mr. Manby snitched on the boy gang but that is highly unlikely.”

“So, Thomas Gower is part of a pawn in a much larger game,” Inspector Reid said.

“Seems like it,” Jackson said.

“Drake and I are going to investigate the toy shop and his wife,” Reid said. He and Drake left leaving Hobbs and Jackson alone together. Hobbs couldn’t help but stare at Jackson.

“We have time to kill while Drake and Reid are doing their work. Artherton probably won’t need you for a little while either so do you want to continue getting to know each other,” Jackson said with a wink. Hobbs nearly jumped into his arms. “Did anyone ever tell you that the uniform makes you look utterly adorable? I could eat you up.”

“Then do it,” Hobbs said.

“As you wish you beautiful boy.” Their lips slammed against each other. Hobbs already had his hat off. Jackson unbuttoned Hobbs’ shirt and pulled down his pants. “Keep your constable uniform shirt on.”

“As you wish,” Hobbs said. Jackson took his clothes off and Hobbs underwear. “I want to give you the same pleasure that you gave me.”

“If you feel up to doing it, Dick,” Jackson said with a smirk. Hobbs got down on his knees and took Jackson with his mouth. He used his hands to help him swallow Jackson’s cock. He bobbed his head slowly. Jackson kept his pace with his hips and when he came, he used a towel. He did not want his mess to get on Hobbs’ uniform.  He discarded that into the sink before sitting Hobbs on the sink. “So, I am going to finger you with plenty of lubricant. Get a feel for penetration and see if you like it but first let me teach you the art of douching.”

Jackson got a bottle of water and made Hobbs lay face down on a clean table. He put the mouth of the bottle on the hole of Hobbs’ ass and poured it in. Jackson waited 20 seconds and poured it into the sink. After a second time, the water was crystal clear in the sink. Jackson washed Hobbs’ ass with some hand soap then poured water on it with a bucket. “What would Reid think if he walked in on us now?” Hobbs asked. He laughed a bit.

“I’m giving you a prostate exam,” Jackson said. He giggled as he drowned his hand in lubricant before putting a finger in his lover’s ass. He was slow but searched for Hobbs’ prostate. Jackson got on top of the table with him. He kissed and licked around his hole.

Hobbs was in heaven with Jackson licking down his back as he put more fingers in and stretched him out. He moaned and eventually came on the autopsy table. They dressed and cleaned up quickly. Soon, Jackson had to leave to go check on Reid, Gower, and Drake. He kissed Hobbs’ goodbye before leaving.

Artherton yelled, “I need you to go deal with the muckraker!”

“Coming,” Hobbs yelled. He ran into the intake room of Leman Street to see Fred Best. The man stood there with a note pad. His black hair slicked back and he wore a dark green blazer that matched a dark green hat. A black and tan tie on a white button-down shirt. His gray eyes curious. Hobbs made sure to not stare too long especially his lips and mustache with a tiny bit of beard.

“See something you like, Constable Hobbs?” Best said. A smirk on his face.

“Shut up and can I ask why are you here?” Hobbs asked. He tried to appear irritated for Artherton. He had Homer Jackson and did not need the sharp tongue of Chief Reporter Fred Best. Also, if he did how would his colleagues see him? He would not have the immunity that he probably has with Homer. He needed that date with Homer soon.

“I would like a comment on this new information regarding the fact that Thomas Gower escaped and is now hold up in the orphanage with your bosses? Rumor has it that Carmichael and his gang will kill everyone in that orphanage,” Best said.

“This is new knowledge to me, sir. I am unable to do anything about it. I am no use to you,” Hobbs said.

“Work with me. I could use an assistant that is eager and not useless. Well since you will say no, here is my address for you to write to me. It is not my personal of course,” Best said. He handed him a piece of paper. Best walked out of the police station after that. A stunned Hobbs got some other constables to release Mr. Manby’s body to the morgue. He cleaned the dead room for Jackson. He changed into his civilian clothes as well. He waited in the room until Jackson came back and they went to a bar.

Jackson ordered them both whiskey. They sat by a fire on a couch. “I bet you want to know more about me,” Jackson said.

“Tell me as much as you are comfortable with and I will tell you about me,” Hobbs said.

“Well I used to be a Pinkerton and a medic in the US army. I lived in New Orleans when the king came calling. I would love for you to see Louisiana but I don’t think that you would be very happy with the heat, darlin’,” Jackson said.

“Are you mad? I have not swum in ages. Could you imagine skinny dipping together? I grew up here in the East End and swimming in the Thames would be wretched. How many bodies do you think float there currently?” Hobbs asked.

“No, I am not crazy and I will take you somewhere warm when we got time off. There are more bodies in the Thames than H division shall ever know,” Jackson said.

“Promise, I never been on a vacation before,” Hobbs said.

“I promise and if I don’t feel free to rough me up,” Jackson said. He ended the sentence with a wink.

“Tell me more about Louisiana and New Orleans,” Hobbs said.

“Mardi Gras and crocodiles are the two things that come to mind. I treated a lot of bites from crocs and it was some of the hardest surgeries I have done. Now Mardi Gras is more of an amazing party day where no one cares about who you take to bed,” Jackson said.

“I wish I had your life sometimes. My past is bloody boring,” Hobbs said.

“You wouldn’t want my life, love. I would give anything for normalcy.”

The couple went back to Susan’s place and into Jackson’s dwellings. They fell asleep after taking their clothes off on his bed. They awoke early in the morning and Hobbs had the best sex in his life. Jackson finally penetrated his ass with his dick and also ate him out. Their love making sweet and gentle. How long would this bliss last? Hobbs could not help but think.

He got that answer in the next couple months when his lover’s past crashed into White Chapel. Before that, him and Jackson got word of getting time off. Instead of New Orleans, Jackson planned somewhere in France.  The day haunts him every time, he closes his eyes. Frank Goodnight nearly killed him and threw him into the Thames. Hobbs stabbed somewhere on his spine, paralyzing him. Jackson saved him and got him to the hospital in time. The recovery a long one. Jackson, Drake, Reid, Artherton, and Best came to visit him while in hospital.

His job as constable evaporated with his ability to walk without aides. Jackson never came around anymore and the last time they made love was when he was well enough to. That was when Jackson confessed to being Matthew Judge. After Hobbs lost his job, was when Matthew Judge/Homer Jackson came around no more.

One day his former lover did meet him at his new lodgings that was next to Fred Best’s apartment. The job of assistant was his and he had someone to take care of him without judgement. Homer Jackson reeked of alcohol but took him into his arms. It felt warm and soft but also familiar and hopeful. His first love was back.

“Darlin’, you look cute in your assistant reporter uniform but it is not the same as your constable uniform,” Jackson said. He put his hand on Hobbs’ chest.

“Please don’t remind me and I have a question. Do you hate me? You never come around anymore since I left Leman Street,” Hobbs asked.

“No, it’s just different now. I look at you and see my failure to protect you to the point that you could have died,” Jackson said.

“I’m alive thought and Goodnight was no better than Jack the Ripper. My job as a police constable has lots of dangers especially in White Chapel,” Hobbs retorted. He tried to kiss Jackson to bring the sparks alive again. Jackson did just that but did not look him in the eyes. “It is not your fault, Homer,” Hobbs whispered in his ear.

“But it was still my fault!” Jackson ran out of the room as Hobbs knocked on Best’s door for the first time. He had notes to give him and he needed company. Determined to not sleep alone tonight either.

Best opened the door only in his black tight pants and no porcelain ear on. He helped Hobbs into the flat. The notes landed on a bed side table. “From your eyes, I can tell that the American made an unexpected visit full of guilt,” Best said.

“He finds it his doing and with my disability, a doll that could shattered at the slightest touch,” Hobbs said. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Well I find you to be as tenacious of a man I knew before and quite frankly still beautiful,” Best said. “I have struggled with the loss of my ear with nightmares and a loss of self-confidence.”

“I started mine in the hospital after I gained consciousness. The little metal boat and Frank Goodnight breath against my neck. Sometimes, it morphs into him fucking me but with Jackson’s face but I feel the pain of the knife,” Hobbs confessed.

Best held him tightly and let him cry on his shoulder. “My night terrors involve Frank Goodnight cutting my ear but on repeat,” Best said. “If we are going to talk so intimately, please call me Fred.” Best had tears welled up in his own eyes.

“Fred, my legs are giving out can we sit down?” Hobbs asked.

“Sure,” Fred said. He carried Hobbs to the bed. The same lust he had back as a constable rear its head as Fred stayed closed. Their foreheads pressed together. The chief reporter helped Hobbs take off his tie, coat, and shirt. Hobbs smiled in the tears.

“Make me feel wanted tonight,” Hobbs said. Fred laid him down and got on top of him. He planted butterfly kisses on the right side of Hobbs chest. “God, you are so beautiful, Fred.” Hobbs placed the tips of his fingers on Fred’s lips. The chief reporter kissed them in response.

“As beautiful as when you saw me at Leman Street with both of my ears in place?” Fred asked.

“Yes, and I take it you feel the same with my legs that lack grace,” Hobbs said.

“Of course!” Fred said. He licked down Hobbs chest to his belly button. He responded with a moan. “My mouth is skilled in other talents than just elegant sentences and quips that get me manhandled.” He licked his lips.

“Why not show me?” Hobbs asked. Fred went to his nipples first. Bites started on the side of his nub. Sucking and licking followed as Fred inched downwards. Hobbs relieved himself of his pants to help him. They were loose and bagger than his old pants. The tight pants were one of the things he missed about having full moment in his legs. Jackson loved his tight constable pants that looked like they were molded onto him.

Fred did not let him continue that thought as he licked his thighs. The journalist seemed to want this to look out of a scene in a novel or a painting. He finally got to his cock and licked the underside then pulling his mouth down to the hilt. He bobbed his head up and down. It ended up being the best blowjob he ever had.

The preparation for the penetrative part of the love making involved lots of kissing. This part seemed a lot less clinical than he remembered. Besides the fact that Hobbs already douched his ass today just in case, he would get some action. Fred loosened him up with his sharp tongue and fingers. A different kind of gentle than Jackson’s.

Fred had Hobbs face him as he went into him. They moved slow then went faster. He slowed down when he could tell Hobbs could not take it. He was cradled in the arms of the most infamous reporter in White Chapel. The climax was filled with relief and euphoria.

Due to the nightmares, they slept for only a couple of hours before work would start. Hobbs just borrowed some of Fred’s clothes. They had to go to Leman Street to find out about a series of kidnappings relating to lonely hearts adverts. Fred helped Hobbs get into his crutches and shoes.

“I would carry you into Leman Street but Reid does not need a reason to lock us up,” Fred said.

“If I had that policeman’s immunity, I would sure as hell abuse it for you,” Hobbs said.

“It’s fine and you make a much better writer. I still have that sample of yours that you did in the hospital when you regained the ability to write. ‘River Thames: The Never-ending Abyss an Article by a Former Police Constable’. The book you wrote it in is always in my jacket pocket,” Fred said.

“I had gotten so many flowers after that was published and a few rewards for the emotion in it. Shame they don’t know it was written the first night I had my nightmare. Thank god, you were there when I woke up in a cold sweat or I would have caused a ruckus for the nurses,” Hobbs said.

“You cling to me while you wrote it and wouldn’t let my mouth leave yours for too long,” Fred whispered in Hobbs’ ear as they walked.

“What can I say that method will take us to great heights except we need to learn how to replicate the method on a typewriter,” Hobbs whispered back. Fred held back laugher as did Hobbs. The walk went fast because of all the jokes and laugher.

Hobbs used a hat his reporter gave to him to shield his face from the people in Leman Street. Fred kept him close as both got a leather journal to use take notes. This would be his first time seeing Reid as a journalist instead of a constable.

A man in clothes resembling a sergeant’s and a young-looking face on him went up to Fred. “Reid is on a very important case, you weasel man. So, please sod off and shove your questions up your ass,” The man said. He had a faint Irish accent and seemed to want to show H division that he felt the same way about noisy Star reporters.

“Weasel man that is very creative but I always found rat man to be more for me, sir. Do you really want me to get information from cretins on the street about this case? Oh, what the people say about you! They say, ‘replacing Dick Hobbs with an Irishman, oh the blasphemy!’ So, please answer my questions regarding this kidnapping,” Fred retorted.

“Rose Erskine was abducted from a park and my name is Albert Flight. That is all your information you are getting,” Albert said.

Hobbs took off his cap and said, “I was a policeman once and thought that rags like the Star were useless in our pursuit of justice. Now I am a junior reporter and think about how we should alert lonely women of a predator in their mists. I am sure you recognize me.”

Albert went white as a sheet. “Reid refused to hire me for the longest time because of you. The ghost of the Metropolitan police reincarnated as a junior reporter,” He said.

“He is no ghost quite the contrary he is a brave man who almost gave his life for his inspector,” Fred said.

“You will get your comment after this case is solved,” Albert said.

Fred got a cab for him and Hobbs. Seeing the junior reporter’s crutches allowed them to not have to pay a fair. They got in the stage coach and Fred got out two cigarettes for them. Hobbs smoked his first cigarette in the cab. Fred whispered, “When we get to my office, I will share one with you and try that technique you taught me.”

“I would love that,” Hobbs said. Hobbs smiled.

“We will find the truth to the public,” Fred said.

“After we get back, I think we should go to Mrs. Reid’s shelter for women because Ms. Erskine resided there.”

“When we go you should talk to you Mrs. Reid. She will respond to you better than me.” Fred looked out of the window.

“His wife and he are estranged so it is not like she will throw you around like him. But I will be glad to talk to her. We just have to be gentle when asking her questions about Rose Erskine,” Hobbs said.

“Then get out of there before Inspector Reid finds out and attacks us both,” Fred said.

They got to the office and started a rough outline of the story with the little information they had. Hobbs sat on Fred’s lap and kissed him every once in a while. Ms. Erskine would be their starting point. The most recent victim of kidnapping.

The outline was finished to the best of their ability. It was still daylight and they had time to go to the women’s shelter. Hobbs had the help of Fred to run. Mrs. Reid met them in the lobby and gave Hobbs a hug. “Please sit down the both of you,” She said. She took them to the sitting room. “May I ask why are you here, Mr. Hobbs and Mr. Best?” She gave them a closed mouth smile.

“We would like to know what Rose did before she disappeared like if she wrote any letters. We want to keep women of White Chapel safe,” Hobbs said.

“I will let you see it but if you take anything especially you Mr. Best that my husband gives you hell,” She said. “Same if you write anything salacious enough to piss off her captures before she is found. Just give information to the people and direct women here if they are feeling unsafe.”

She took them up to Rose’s room. Hobbs sat on the bed to calm his breathing and gain his strength again. Fred looked under the bed and other places in the room to find the letters. He found lonely heart sections and letters from a Victor Silver. Hobbs wrote down the name and copied his lonely heart’s paragraph and summarized the letters. Fred and Mrs. Reid carried Hobbs’ crutches and himself down the stairs. She gave them tea and called got a cab for them before they left.

“She deserves so much better than Mr. Reid. She didn’t have to get us a cab but she did anyway,” Hobbs said.

“All that walking you did today tired you out. Please do not overdo yourself to please me. You are by my side and that is enough,” Fred said.

“I just don’t want to be useless. You may be my boyfriend but that does not mean I must not work as hard as the other junior reporters. Rachel Costello works so hard and I don’t want her to think your favoritism of me is unwarranted,” Hobbs said.

“It was never unwarranted, love. When I offered you the job a year ago it was because of how promising as a journalist you were. Turns out my prediction was right,” He said.

They got to Fred’s office in the evening and got Costello to write the warning for the women of White Chapel. It was the first time Hobbs saw that Fred willingly clocked out at a reasonable hour. He took Hobbs back to their interconnecting flats. They went to Hobbs’ room this time. Clothes flew off as they fell onto Hobbs’ bed together. Hobbs fallen on top of Fred and put his lips on Fred. Their tongues intermingled as the chief reporter prepared to be taken by Hobbs this time.

Hobbs made love to Fred with the man’s legs wrapped around him. The rhyme stumbled a bit but he tried to pleasure his lover as best as he could. Both came quickly and found a towel to wash. After all the stickiness was cleaned off, they cuddled in bed.

They read a trashy novel. Fred read aloud a Molly house madam as Hobbs read as a curious, shy gentleman falling in love with the madam. Fred read, “Shall I satiate that appetite of yours? Or leave you wanting a taste of me.”

“How can you tell that I would want you to ravish me?” Hobbs said. He made an innocent face. He looked in his eyes and tilted his head.

“You keep trailing your eyes down my body,” Fred said.

“So, satisfy me,” Hobbs said.

Fred threw the book down and kissed Hobbs. They made love again. Hobbs fell asleep on his lover’s chest. Fred had his head rested on his lover’s shoulder.

Hobbs felt freezing water as he musters some strength to scream. He closed his eyes. He felt someone lift him out of the water and onto the nearest land. He heard Homer’s voice say, “You will live another day or I will die trying to save you.” He felt lips on his mouth until he found himself coughing up water. Homer took his clothes off and gave him fifty blankets and took him to the hospital.

He awoke in his bed with Fred curled up around him. He felt Fred’s chest heave as he breathed. Fred woke up and wrapped his arms around Hobbs. “Did you have a nightmare again?” He asked.

“Yes, I could feel the water in my lungs and the pain of coughing it out.”

“So, Goodnight was not in the dream this time?” Fred asked.

“No, he only seems to show up when I’m alone.” They got dressed and went to the office where Edmund Reid stood. It was only five in the morning and the inspector already looked annoyed.

“I need you and Hobbs to publish lonely hearts ads of Susan’s girls. We are going to try to bring out the kidnapper,” He said. “I will give credit to both of you.”

“Shall we go there now?” Fred asked.

Reid took the men to Tenter Street. They got there and Jackson greeted them. He had drink in his hand and helped Susan rally the girls to write something. Fred and Hobbs had to explain the type that the kidnapper looked for. They watched over the writing process as Jackson stared at Hobbs. When everything died down a bit, Jackson tried to take Hobbs somewhere alone in the house.

He got him in Jackson’s room. “Susan beat me up until I realized that I should stop being guilty and show you how much I care for you,” He said. Jackson looked Hobbs in the eye. “I love you and I cannot close my eyes and not see you.”

Hobbs gulped and looked at the door. “Why did you wait to tell me this?”

“Because I am a stupid prick who does not know what he has until he loses it.”

Fred came in during the long awkward silence and broke it with, “Jackson, can you please not stand so close to my lover.”

Jackson moved away from Hobbs who stayed on the wall. “You saved me and nursed my physical wounds but left my mental and emotional wounds to flourish. Fred was there to give me a job when I lost mine and no one refused to hire me. He listened to my fears, trauma, and never saw me as some fine china that could be broken easily. I am eternally grateful for your rescue but I cannot be with you in the same way as I did a year earlier,” Hobbs said.

“Best how did you steal him? With a kiss? With your sharp tongue?” Jackson asked.  

“I was there when he felt no one understood him. We bonded over our insecurities and love of investigating. I am sure there is a man in your police service that would love you,” Fred said.

They went back to the women and got all of their lonely-hearts ads in their roughest form. Both said goodbye to Susan and Reid then left. The typewriter waited for them at the office. They rushed off to get this story published before this afternoon.


	2. Hole Inside of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hobbs' mental health takes a hit and Fred swears that he will take him away from Whitechapel. Susan and Mimi bond at the theater.

The lonely heart advertisements went up before the sun came up. Hobbs yawned but got himself another cup of tea. Now they had to wait for anything substantial regarding the kidnapper. Hobbs and Fred read newspaper after newspaper from South America and beyond to find out about this elusive Victor Silver. Fred found a picture in the newspaper with a title about being the most available bachelor. “I am not surprised the man can pick up women but not being able to keep one intrigues me. He either has an unhealthy obsession with his sister or in the iron closet,” Fred said. The man in the picture had cherry blonde hair with a ponytail with blue eyes. He wore white and his clothes looked expensive compared to Hobbs and Fred.

“Would you wear that, Dick?” Fred asked.

“Maybe if you made me your husband,” Hobbs said. “I prefer the plaid suits that you got me for my job.” Hobbs stretched his legs.

“You love me that much,” Fred said.

“Who stood by my side when I lay in my hospital bed even enough to take a month leave from the Star?” Hobbs said.

“I did,” Fred said. “It is truly a miracle that you have lived, love.”

“Yes, and without you I might have ended up in Bedlam or something,” Hobbs said.

“You would not because you have with the support of your family, but it would have been much harder,” Fred said.

“What crimes do you think this Victor Silver committed to be able to live so comfortably but still find the need to scurry back to London?” Hobbs asked. The picture stared at them on the desk. He shivered a bit. Fred hugged him in response.

“Does the man in the picture scare you?”

“All men that are rich and powerful terrify me,” Hobbs said. The hug got tighter.

“They anger and terrify me too. Eventually, I would like to run away with you to some new city,” Fred said. “Somewhere in South or Central America.”

“I would love to Fred but are you sure you will be able to take the heat?”

“We will live near the beach only a mile from town and my bare body will be burned into your eyes. The sun will help fight this despair we have,” Fred put his head on Hobbs’ shoulder. They would have to go to Leman Street eventually and get the conclusion to the story.

“You would help me conquer my fear of water,” Hobbs said.

“Yes, and I would hold you tightly on the boat,” Fred said.

Once they were sure the case had concluded they went to Leman Street. Hobbs could imagine how angered Reid would be with their presence this late at night. They were sent into Reid’s office by Albert Flight. Reid rolled his eyes at Flight and the sergeant shrugged. Hobbs felt eyes from whoever was there staring at him besides Fred. Would they have rather had him dead than one of Fred’s?

“We are here Mr. Reid because I want that conclusion to this Victor Silver. I have my own theories, but I would like to hear from an official source that dealt with the man,” Fred said. “You don’t want him being represented as a white slaver in the Star if he is not. How would that look for Metropolitan Police that they gave the papers false information?” Fred did that smirk that drove Hobbs mad. He directed at him and nudged him a little.

“Sir, we need to let White Chapel women know especially the lonely hearts that they can sleep peacefully now without fear that they will be kidnapped by that sad excuse for a man,” Hobbs said.

“Very well and Mr. Best it seems Mr. Hobbs is doing more than just writing for you. Rose Erskine is alive and well. Mr. Best, you were about him being a white slaver. His sister is going to be charged with the abductions and hopefully meets the rope. If you put that on record I’m going to wring you from a rope. The rope part not who was charged,” Reid said.

“Sir, how is Miss Rose’s emotional state faring?” Hobbs asked.

“Distressed most likely and I will not have you ask her what happened yet unless both of you want to be ripped,” Reid said.

Fred faked being surprised while Hobbs rolled his eyes. They finished the meeting and went out the door of Leman Street. Albert Flight stopped them before they could finish getting into the cab. “Meet me in the alleyway on south of Tenter Street. I have something to confess to you,” He said.

“Fine,” Fred said. The meeting would be held before the sun came up. The couple got the cabby to take them there. The first action they took was find Albert Flight. Hobbs insisted on going ahead of Fred. They found Flight rather dressed down compared to his usual self.

When they got close enough, he told them, “I feel I fancy men and you were the only ones I could tell because I do not think Reid or Drake would understand and Jackson loathes my guts.”

“Why are you telling us?” Hobbs asked.

“You just seem approachable about that,” Flight said.

“You are so lucky that I do not write for the Police News,” Fred said.

“So, who has got you in such a fit?” Hobbs asked. Fred leaned on the wall and smoked a cigarette. Hobbs smirked at him as he waited for answer from Flight. Fred’s cigarette was to the hilt when Flight answered.

“Jedidiah Flight drives me insane more ways than one,” Flight said. Fred dropped his still burning cigarette. Hobbs jaw hung open. The cigarette was the only thing that moved. Flight broke the silence by stepping on it.

“You could make a stuffed bird laugh. Why him of all the inspectors or sergeants that you could fancy? Reid would make more sense!” Fred said. “However, the fact that you fancy men is a secret I am willing to keep. I might be a muckraker, but I have some sense of honor and decency.”

“I will keep that secret too. Also, I do not care who raises your flag but please make sure it is a healthy relationship. Especially since it would be risking your job at Leman Street to be with him and potentially your life,” Hobbs said.

“I did not except both of you to be so understanding,” Flight said.

“So, you will apologize for treating me like shit on my first day in forever setting foot in Leman Street?” Hobbs asked.

“Yes, you are very much alive, Mr. Hobbs and I should not have perceived Reid’s coldness towards me against you,” Flight said.

“Well go and make merry with your odd choice of lover and stop wasting our time,” Fred said. Flight went to go find Shine and Hobbs went deeper into the alley with Fred.

“The article can wait because all I want to do is kiss you,” Fred said.

“I have been waiting for this all night.” Fred carried him to a well-placed wall and their lips met.  All Hobbs could think about was how he would make sure that him and Fred would not end up like him and Homer even if he had to learn to fight and use a gun. He had to strengthen his legs as well. Fred went to the part of his neck that drove him wild and no coherent thought formed in his mind until they got back to the Star office. They got Rachel Costello to write this article too.

“I won’t ask what is going on because well if your mind wasn’t occupied, Mr. Best I would lose stories to both you and Mr. Hobbs. One more thing before you leave, there should be more stories coming from Hobbs about his time at Leman Street. People loved the first one,” Ms. Costello said. She went right to work.

They went back to Fred’s flat. The clothes ended up on the floor after the door locked. Hobbs lay on the bed and beckoned Fred to get on it with him. “Love, I am going to make myself stronger, so I can protect you,” Hobbs said.

“That is very sweet and if you need any help please ask me,” Fred said. The chief reporter got on the bed with him. They kissed deeply, and Hobbs held onto Fred tightly. Fred was behind him and kissed the scar on his middle back. “They should have given you back up but no Reid cares more about the cases than his men.”

Hobbs kissed Fred’s neck near where his right ear used to be. “And as the head journalist in the Star deserves to be protected,” He answered back. He played with Fred’s beautiful black hair. “How are you so breath taking?”

“Confidence,” Fred said as they made loved. They were tangled around each other. Hobbs scratched Fred’s back to get closer to him. The cologne he used smelled like vanilla and he could not keep his mouth off Fred’s body.

“Let’s do this till we are too exhausted to dream,” Hobbs said as he sucked on Fred’s nipple. They made love till they were so exhausted, they passed out. Somehow a dream still creeped into his mind.

Frank Goodnight had his chin in his hand and up against a wall. “Matthew Judge is no god or Adonis when it comes to love. He destroys everything in his touch. I started a sexual relationship with him and he murdered my brother. Caitlin Swift ended up in a cathouse and the other man you love lost an ear. What do you think will happen to you?” Goodnight said as his breath lingered on Hobbs’ neck. His only weapon was across the room.

            “You are going to rip me and then go to Matthew Judge to do the same. I am a sacrificial lamb to you and a way to draw him out,” Hobbs said. “I guess my death will not be of dignity.”

            “When you fell in love with him, I think you had reach the point of no return in regard to your dignity,” Goodnight said.

            “I did not know his past when I did,” Hobbs said. He felt the blade jam into part of his spin. His body locked up and all he could do was look above him.

            “Shame a beautiful man like you had to die so young,” Goodnight said.

            Hobbs woke up breathing heavily with sweat running down his forehead. His pupils took over his brown eyes as he snuck to find the wash room, so he could clean himself. He grabbed a cloth and wetted it in the sink. He used a bucket to wet his hair. The mirror stared back at him.

            He got a razor on the sink that Fred used to trim his stash to make indents on the lower part of his underarm. His eyes showed signs of lack of sleep with purple half-circles under them. He washed his face a couple of times. He shaved his stubbles on his cheeks and chin. He cleaned the bits of blood off the sink and on the razor. He wrapped bandages on his new wounds and to distract Fred, he put on one of his lover’s favorite overcoats. He looked at the time to see that it was five AM.

            Hobbs got on top of his love and peck his cheek. “Freddy, time to wake up because we need to edit Ms. Costello’s article before they publish it,” Hobbs said. Fred opened his eyes to see Dick in his olive-green coat from the day of the smut murders. Hobbs’ hair eschewed. Water dripped on the bed.  “I just finished bathing and I wanted to give you a surprise,” Hobbs said.

            “A surprise indeed,” Fred said as he bit his lip. “I had a dream about us living on a shore in South America.”

            “What else happened in the dream?”

            “It was the day before we would go off to the Congo to investigate the suspicious trade that went on there. We sunbathed on the beach and you did not have your crutches anymore. It was idyllic.” Fred pulled Hobbs into his arms before they got ready for work.

            He felt soreness in his back. It was located in the spot where Goodnight stabbed him. He grabbed his crutches and went with Fred to the office. They sat in the chief reporter office and Hobbs wrote a sequel to the first thing he wrote for the Star. Fred locked the door to the office and kissed his lover’s neck. “I think you could use some moral support,” He said as he wrapped his arms around him.

            ‘“Does ‘It never leaves once you’ve experience such a trauma.’ Sound good?”’ Hobbs asked. He typed furiously.

            Fred put his head on Hobbs’ shoulder. “As an opening yes,” He said.

            “Here I will read you the rest,” Hobbs said. “ _The shadows are not your own anymore but the monster that haunts you. A Pinkerton from a past lover stalks my moments of unconscious. I carry my own guilt for the day. I should have pleaded for Inspector Reid to give me back up. I could have decided to not play the hero. The thought that gives me searing pain is that an increase in budget and manpower could cause less injuries to the constables. The men in the high cut black uniform and the pointed hat are expendable and plenty. Pawns on a large chessboard, sacrificing themselves for their king. I a pawn in the pursuit for justice._

_Isolation strengths the shadows. I need someone there for most of my day. My legs are not like they should be for a man of my age. I am only shy of 22 and I need assistance from my employer or lover depending on where I am. I may never get better ever. Yet there is still that lamp that flickers on the odd day or hour. The best and hopeful reverie is being able to run a bit quicker or walk smoother. Taking the crutches off for a moment longer. The umbra of the Pinkerton still coloring those moments of reprieve._

_Power in myself is what I crave. The trauma to not break me. Who is to say I am not beautiful? Who is to say I am useless? I am not a monstrosity because of my injuries or am I the Ghost of Leman Street. The trauma we experience in White Chapel is universal.”_

Fred shed his usual smug resting face for tears that slowly went down his cheek. “Reid only sent one man to follow a widowed wife knowing it could go south quick. He did not send any other incognito backup because of coin! The rich get their lavish parties on the dime of the poor and except the fallout of that destitution to be contained by a few men!” Fred said. He yelled for Malcom. “Publish this right away! I want it on the front page of the paper for tomorrow. The rich white slaver will be transitioned into from this piece.” Fred kicked him out of the room.

            Fred smoked two cigarettes then gave Hobbs a bear hug. “I adore you.”

            “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Hobbs said. Tears flowed from his cheeks. The door roared again from knocks. “Fuck!”

            Fred flung the door open and Homer Jackson stood there. “Reid wants to know if you have any information on a woman calling herself Blush Pang and to not bother Mr. Linklater in the hospital,” He said with his southern US twang.

            “She is not one of your wife’s girls?” Fred asked.

            “Of fucking course!” The American said. Hobbs let go of Fred’s hand before Jackson could notice. “You think I don’t notice how Hobbs dotes on you. How both of you look at each other and how you are always together? I would sell my soul and body no holds bar for Hobbs back in my arms in our rather innocent bliss. What does he see in you, Best? After finding out your love of making fake Ripper letters to Scotland Yard and messing with a crime scene? Do you even have a loving side or is it all ambition in that one-eared head?” Fred rolled his eyes.

            “I knew that he did both from him and Reid. He told me every single ugly detail of his past instead of vague truths about parts of your past. Your lies nearly got me killed and now Frank Goodnight refuses to let me sleep. I feel him inside of me for fucks sake! Not just in the sexual way but in my fucking back. My whole being was violated because of him. I have a phantom pain in my spine,” Hobbs retorted.

            “I pushed you away when you needed me most and told you the truth after you almost died. It was your fault in the first place, Best! You put Susan on the front page for fucks sake! Your story on Lucy caused all of this!” Jackson said.

            “Maybe you could have given me a disclaimer like ‘Mr. Best, would you kindly make sure only her initials are used because we happen to be fugitives from America.’ Use your head, Jackson!” Fred said. “Sober up then I will let you on my knowledge on Blush Pang. If you don’t I will just go to Reid with my information on her.”

            Jackson drank from a flask before saying, “Fine I will go and drink my coffee as you fuck my lover.” He staggered out of Fred’s office. Hobbs hugged Fred.

            “I need to go talk to Ms. Susan. Can you walk me there?” Hobbs asked.

            “Sure,” Fred said.

            They walked to Tenter Street and Fred helped Hobbs find her. “Wait outside, love,” Hobbs whispered. Fred nodded and waited in the foyer. Susan met with Hobbs in her office. She got one of the girls to get them tea. Hobbs took a sip of it.

            “So, what do you want to talk about?” She asked. She held her teacup.

            “Your husband barged into the Star offices and caused a scene. How have you dealt with him all these years?” Hobbs asked. He drank the tea.

            “Patience which is something I now lack,” Susan said. “I am relieved that you did not go back to him after your incident because you would be worse off. I debate why do I still let him in my house anymore or to live with me.”

            “You are not mad that I left him?” Hobbs asked.

            “No after I saw you in the hospital I was glad that you and Best were connecting. Jackson’s guilt was eating him alive and how smart would it be for both of you to get together again,” Susan said.

            “Susan, you deserve better than this cathouse and Jackson,” Hobbs said. They finished the tea.

            “I will talk to you again and maybe convince Mr. Best to go watch a play then review it. I want to make sure Rose is doing okay. How about Saturday?” Susan asked.

            “Sure. I will tell him,” Hobbs said. He went out to the foyer and told Fred of their plans.

            “I would love to,” Fred said. They walked back to the Star’s office. Reid was there waiting in Fred’s office. “Fucking Malcom!” Fred cursed. He sat down in his chair and Hobbs went to his desk to work on some articles.

            “I don’t give a damn about your catty feud with Jackson, but I need that information on Blush Pang. A body of a German man was found in Pang’s game house,” Reid said. He glared at Fred.

            “Fine, there are rumors that a more powerful opiate than morphine is going to reach the market soon,” Fred said.

            “Addicts have been whispering about it as of late,” Hobbs said. “When you are seen as a ghost people seem to spill secrets around you.”

            “Do either of you know who?” Reid asked.

            “Obviously Blush Pang,” Fred said.

            “Who else?” Reid asked.

            “I do not know,” Fred said.

            Reid left after that and Hobbs took Fred into a supply closet. Fred locked the door. Hobbs kissed Fred on the lips and they went against the wall. Shirts were unbuttoned, and ties undone. Pants were down to their ankles as Hobbs serviced Fred. A blush on the chief reporter’s face. Hobbs used his tongue to suck off Fred. He used his wrist to muffle his moans. He climaxed soon after they went to the office and sat on the floor.

            “I have not been to the theater since my first assignment there as a junior reporter to review a stage play mocking H Division,” Fred said. He smoked a cigarette. “They almost casted me as Sergeant Drake one time. I was only 16 at the time and took it as a complement. Now it seems more of an insult.”

            “I would have loved to have seen 16-year-old Fred Best as Sergeant Drake in a parody of H Division. You are so much more beautiful than him. Those bluish-greyish-hazel eyes and that long jet-black hair with that smile that could kill,” Hobbs said. “Those tits of yours are to die for.” Hobbs laughed. He put his hands-on Fred’s chest.

            “I still have the script from the parody play and we can act it out together,” Fred said.

            “I cannot wait,” Hobbs said.

            They finished the articles and clocked out for the night. They went back home for the night. Hobbs washed up before putting on some night clothes. He looked at the cuts on his arm pit. He cleaned the dried blood off and changed the dressings. He did not pick up the razor tonight. He went out to see Fred in just a constable coat and one of his ties. His hair wet from cleaning off the hair gel.

            “I wanted to do this for you because well we actually got to be normal for half a day,” Fred said. Hobbs put his crutches against the wall before hopping on the bed with his lover. They stared in each other’s eyes.

            “It was nice to not just talk about work or what happened with you. You are a very funny man, Freddy. I have that image of you as Bennet Drake in my head in the boxing ring. Your chest glistening and winning against the sod that decided to fight you. It is a pleasing thought,” Hobbs said. Fred kissed Hobbs’ lips. Hobbs wrapped his arms around Fred’s shoulders. “Please tell me you didn’t steal this from Reid.”

            “He gave that to you not too long ago. It was a house warming gift for the flat you never use,” Fred said. Fred let Hobbs get on top of him. Hobbs watched Fred’s eyes in the light.

            “We have an adjoining flat, so I do use it. It has just become a library with a bed for us,” Hobbs said as he spread Fred’s legs. Hobbs put a conservable amount of lube on his fingers before fingering his lover. Hobbs stripped off pants.

            “How did you learn this witchcraft?” He asked. Fred started panting. A few moans escaped here and there.

            “I just observed how you prepared me and looked for the spots that are sensitive for you,” Hobbs said as he finally pushed in. As they tried to maintain a rhythm, both could not help but laugh. Hobbs held Fred up close. They finished and fell asleep in the afterglow.

            In Hobbs’ dreams, he just saw Goodnight’s face and felt his body against him. He awoke in a cold sweat. It was only four in the morning, when he got up and got ready for the morning. He went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He brushed his teeth and began to shave when Fred came up behind him. Hobbs jumped up and accidentally cut himself with the blade on his chest. “Bloody hell! Let me get a bandage and some towels,” Fred said.

            “Damn it! You scared the hell out of me!” Hobbs said. Fred stripped off the constable coat before getting the first aid kit. Hobbs sat on a nearby chair. He breathed heavily. Soon, Fred was there with the bandages. He cleaned the wound before dressing it.

            “You are having those nightmares again?” Fred said.

            “Yes,” Hobbs said. The men got dressed and they hung up the constable coat before leaving. They went to a tavern for breakfast. Hobbs ate his eggs and bacon. Hobbs saw Reid and Jackson at another booth. Fred watched the two as well. They moved closer to hear what they were talking about.

            “Jackson, stay with me so you can concentrate on your work,” Reid said.

            “Reid, you have that funeral for Linklater later and you don’t need to worry about me,” Jackson said.

            “That is not until noon. Did I tell you that you are the best surgeon that I ever had? Are you still mourning over Hobbs?” Reid asked.

            “I will stay with you. Susan is going to kick me out anyway,” Jackson said.

            “Sleep with me.” Reid grabbed Jackson’s hands and stared at him. Hobbs gasped quietly.

            Fred dropped some of his eggs back onto his plate. “I thought you would never ask, Edmund,” Jackson said with a smirk. “Now that we got that out of the way, how about I help you pick something out that is fit for a funeral.” They left as Fred and Hobbs hid in their booth.

            Fred and Hobbs went to get ready for Linklater’s burial. Fred helped dress Hobbs in a black trench coat and one of his favorite ties. Fred went for something gray with a black bolder hat. They arrived at the funeral to see Reid and his guard dog Drake. Shine stood at his sergeant’s grave site.

            Hobbs noticed Reid bending over and examining Fred’s fake ear. He rolled his eyes and joked when it came to Fred’s humility from his injury. Also, Reid went over to him and just looked at him. “I am amazed that you don’t need the crutches anymore,” Reid said. “I do not understand your career choice thought.”

            “Same skills used in both policing and journalism, sir. Plus, they were the only ones who noticed my potential after the accident,” Hobbs said. “And sir, Sergeant Drake and Shine seem to be sparring.” Hobbs pointed to the two. Reid went to go grab Drake.

            Fred wrote down what happened in short hand, while Hobbs took pictures of the scuffle. He got a photo of Jedidiah Shine praying on the newly dug grave. Hobbs could not wait for Saturday. A night out with Fred that involves reviewing a play instead of dealing with the misery of Whitechapel. This would be Hobbs first time to the theater. After sharing some glares with the H division men, they went back to the Star offices.

            The four days before Saturday, they had no time to sleep with all the new stories. Fred would brew coffee and various teas for Hobbs, so he could stay awake. When everyone left the office, Fred would let him sit on his lap. They edited articles most of the nights. Fred’s boss took pity on the both of them Friday and forced them to clock out for sleep. He even promised to pay them for the day because he wanted them to sleep so badly.

            Hobbs and Fred went into their flat at 6am on Friday for the day of rest. “Did I make that terrible of typos?” Fred asked. He smoked a couple of cigarettes before stripping. He got into bed and waited for Hobbs. The younger man washed his body with a cloth before joining. Hobbs finished washing himself and got in bed with Fred.

            “If you did I don’t remember. Do you have something for me, so I can actually sleep?” Hobbs asked. “I do not want to hurt you if my nightmares get violent.” Fred went to his medicine cabinet and got some laudanum out. He gave a tiny bit to Hobbs. He drank it quick. Fred put it away and went back to bed with his lover.

            “I could be getting book reviews done,” Fred said.

            “I think why we got this day off was not because your work is bad, but he’s worried we overworked ourselves. You passed out on your desk using your typewriter as a pillow,” Hobbs said. He kissed an indent of the ‘f’ key on Fred’s right cheek.

            “I was not writing anything important right?” Fred asked.

            “I got the finished article out before you typed gibberish with your face,” Hobbs said.

            “How about tomorrow, there will be no more work or no talk of work,” Fred said.

            “At all and first person that does has to take the tedious jobs on Monday,” Hobbs said.

            “Deal,” Fred said.

            They cuddled up together and Hobbs used Fred’s chest as a pillow. He closed his eyes and thought of times when he is not a complete codependent and Fred is not a workaholic Thanks to the laudanum, he dreamed of Fred and him on the beach. The sun shined as they played in the water. Fred did not have to wear his fine china ear.

            The event they were investigating was the Congo Free State. They could put all their effort in one story instead of several currently. The sand bunched up in Hobbs feet as he stretched and the heat of it felt amazing. It felt real.

            He awoke on Fred’s chest with the sun coming in from the windows. He looked at the time on Fred’s watch to see that it was Saturday morning. He went back to sleep without having to worry about work. The dreamless sleep was interrupted with Fred throwing clothes at his face. Fred read a trashy novel as he waited for Hobbs to come to.

            “You slept like a rock,” Fred said. “Frankenstein could be an allegory for Whitechapel.” Hobbs looked up to see that his lover was not dressed either. “Also, I am having a hard time deciding what to wear. What color do you like better on me red or blue?”

            “I think you should go with the red,” Hobbs said. “So, what about me?”

            “The purplish gray suit that you own,” Fred said. They got dressed and went to the theater. Mimi and Susan saved them a table in the second row. Hobbs sat next to Fred. Susan wore a stunning purple dress with her hair in an elaborate bun. Mimi wore a modest yellow dress. Rose would be performing tonight.

            “Mr. Best, we picked the best entertainment tonight and drinks are the house tonight,” Mimi said. “Well only for the three of you. If I did that for everyone this establishment would not exist anymore.”

            “Wow you must be really desperate for that good review,” He said.

            “Actually, it is more for Miss Susan. One of her girls became one of mine. A good review from the Star is not my main objective,” Mimi said. “Maybe, Hobbs should write it too. A change of pace if you will.” The waitress came to take their orders.

            “Some vodka,” Hobbs ordered.

            “Water,” Fred said.

            “Red wine,” Mimi said.

            “Whiskey,” Susan ordered.

            She left to go get their drinks as the opening of the play was about to start. “I am so proud of you for being able to walk, Hobbs,” Susan said. “I remember back when you were in the hospital and only just starting to sit up. I guess that also means that Freddy Best here has a soft side.” Fred blushed a bit.

            “The Beast of Whitechapel is more of a kitten. Who would have ever known,” Mimi said.

            “He is a kitten with claws,” Hobbs said.

            Women danced around Rose as she sang a song about love. It was a song, full of sorrow. The theater was dead silent. Hobbs saw Jackson go sit down in the back of the establishment. He felt Fred’s hand on his thigh. Hobbs put his hand on his. The song stopped, and the other scene was getting prepared.

            “How have you been, Ms. Hart?” Fred asked.

            “Fine, I need you to do a photoshoot for my girls soon. It will be under the table and you will make a bit of money,” Susan said.

            “Sure, just make sure Mr. Jackson is not there. He has caused trouble recently,” Fred said.

            “Of course! I do not want to see his face anyway,” Susan said. “Bring Hobbs I think he could use a change in scenery from the office.”

            “Hobbs is my apprentice, so you will see him anyway,” Fred said.

            “It has been too long, Miss Susan,” Hobbs said. The next scene started with Rose arguing with a man. He dressed in a top hat and a tuxedo. He left the scene after throwing some coin at her. She threw it back at him and began to sing a song of anger.

            Mimi and Susan drank more than Fred and Hobbs. It led them to be more affectionate to each other and were a lot less subtle than him and his lover were. Hobbs kept his hand on Fred’s. “Mimi, you are so agreeable. I never excepted to meet another truly ambitious woman,” Susan said.

            “Ambition seems to run in this table,” Mimi said.

            The next scene was Rose’s friends comforting her as they plan revenge on the man. Hobbs wrapped his fingers around Fred’s hand as they watched the scene unfold. Jackson watched them more than he paid attention to the play. Hobbs felt Jackson’s eyes on him. Hobbs whispered to Mimi, “Since this is your establishment you can kick people, out right? Well this man keeps staring at me and it is making me uncomfortable.” Hobbs pointed to Jackson.

            “Yes,” Mimi said. She called over to a guard and whispered to him. Soon as she did, the guard got Jackson out of there. The drunk Jackson tried to throw some punches at them but missed. Fred held his hands as they watched the former Pinkerton leave.

            The second act was finished, and the third act began. Hobbs got progressively more drunk as he watched it. Fred joined in on the alcohol as well. Rose’s character murdered the man and ripped him up. Hobbs had to move to the men’s bathroom when the man with the top hat was thrown in the Thames. His vision blurred in the mirror and all he thought about was guilt that he ruined Fred’s and his night out. He threw water on his face before going back. The play ended when Rose’s character was sent off to hang.

            Once the guests left, Mimi took them to a more private room of the theater. “Susan and I will be in the other room so knock if something happens,” Mimi said as the women disappeared into the other room. Hobbs took off his blazer and unbuttoned his shirt. He went on the small stage in the room. He smoked some cannabis that Mimi left them then swayed his hips and closed his eyes.

            He opened his eyes to see Fred had taken his cigarette. “Tonight, how about we get off our faces,” Fred said. He had taken off his jacket too and unbuttoned his shirt. They danced together in the silent room. They drank some shots along with the cannabis. The room got warmer for Hobbs and he took off more clothes.

            Hobbs could hear the women in the other room as he tried to get Fred’s pants down with his teeth. They had the same thing in mind that the journalists had. Hobbs heard two men moaning somewhere in the building. He stopped trying to take off his lover’s pants to investigate. He stayed hidden in the shadows as he followed the sound. The inspector of H Division had brought Jackson through the back door and into a little room within the theater. Hobbs watched for a few seconds before going back to Fred.

            “Reid is fucking Jackson into the wall,” He said. Fred lay on the stage naked. He licked his top lip with dramatic slowness.

            “Such odd coupling,” Fred said. Hobbs locked the door then stripped before getting on the stage with his love. Several lube bottles sat on the stage with them. Hobbs couldn’t help but giggle. They took another hit from the cannabis cigarette. Hobbs got on top of Fred. “I swear Jackson is a buddle of dynamites waiting to explode. We need to leave London before he decides to try something.”

            Hobbs prepared Fred to be entered as he kissed him. Jackson and Goodnight were two sides of the same coin. One flowed with emotion while the other was cold as the dead. They made love sloppily before getting dressed to only pass out on random furniture.

            He was too far gone for dreams and was awoken by water thrown at them by Mimi and Susan. “Ever thought of putting on shows for my cathouse?” She said.

            “I don’t need stories coming out of me like ‘Fred Best and Dick Hobbs are Tarts Who Perform Together’,” Fred said.

            Hobbs stretched and fell into Fred’s arms. “I could not imagine the illustrations accompanying the article,” Hobbs said. Mimi got them coffee. They sat at a table together. Mimi looked lovingly at Susan.  

            “I think they would be photos,” Mimi said. “You could do some skits for a good bit of quid.”

            “I told her that you wanted to get out of here. How about a week in Paris?” Susan said.

            Hobbs had never been out of the East End. “Seriously?” He said. He looked at Fred, who’s face lit up.

            “I have a job for you there. The French has a version of ‘our friend’ and I would like both of you to investigate. I will make sure your investigative piece on the French’s Ripper is published everywhere that I can reach. I expect the best, Mr. Best,” Mimi said.

            “I got my position as Chief Reporter at the Star by merit not by sleeping around,” Fred said. Susan and Mimi rolled their eyes. Mimi gave Fred and Hobbs a change of clothes.

            “Go get changed,” She said.

            Hobbs and Fred went into a dressing room to change. “I’ll wash your clothes tonight and make sure they are soft and warm,” Hobbs said. He folded their soiled clothes from yesterday. “Shall we take a warm bath when we get home?” Hobbs kissed his lover’s forehead.

            “Yes, and a massage would be good too,” Fred said. They finished getting changed and went back to the room they were in.

            “I will send you a telegraph with all the details before tomorrow and make sure your place of work knows. Now please go bathe, you both smell of alcohol and semen,” Mimi said.

            “Don’t forget to pack either and we will provide the typewriter. Think of what pens and paper would be appropriate and what clothes. You don’t want to show that you have never step foot in Paris,” Susan said.

            They left the theater during the time everyone was heading home from church. They weaved through the crowds as they headed to their place of residence. Hobbs and Fred went to the wash room and prepared the porcelain tub. It was in Hobbs’ apartment and was a gift from the Metropolitan Police. The hot water flowed in as Fred made sure the towels were in reach and the soap. The couple stripped and got in when it was filled up enough. Fred’s glasses and fake ear on a table away from the water.

            Hobbs stared at the white walls in the room. Fred examined his cuts close to his armpit. “You sure can be clumsy sometimes,” He said. Hobbs nodded and sighed in relief. Fred had his arms around him as they took in the steam. He kissed the one on his chest as well which was the only one he would consider an accident.

            “Coordination won’t be back completely for another year,” Hobbs said. Fred kissed the healing cuts. He kissed around Fred’s ear as they washed each other’s hair. He never thought he would meet someone like Mr. Best after Goodnight rendered his limbs useless and mind in tatters.  He knew that if Jackson and he got back together after the attempted murder then Hobbs knew for sure he would have been in Bedlam. If anyone other than Fred, knew about the nightmares and his tendencies to hurt himself then he would be sent away forever.

            “I know you are thinking about Bedlam. I will get you out of here if they ever even suggest it,” Fred said. They cleaned each other’s bodies before getting out. The water gone lukewarm. Warm robes came on after they dried off. They laid in bed with a book in hand which they read together.

            “So, did you ever make merry with Edmund Reid?” Hobbs asked.

            “During the time of the Ripper murders after his daughter went missing. Apparently black or brown hair and blue eyes are his type universally,” Fred said. “Don’t worry you are better than him in every way.” He kissed Hobbs from his neck to his tailbone.

            “I don’t hate what you are all about,” Hobbs said. He smiled and kissed Fred’s jawline. “You tell the public what is going on.” Hobbs fell asleep on Fred’s shoulder.


End file.
